


dark nights

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, F/F, also hot older sister au technically, girl next door au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 22:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: For a brief moment, Annabeth imagined herself on the back of the motorcycle, her face pressed against the leather jacket stitched with the words “Girl Power” in vibrant red. She imagined the smoky, vanilla scent of the rider's perfume mixed with the gasoline smell of the bike. The warmth of Jason's sister's jean-clad ass against her hips as the motorcycle's leather seat held her legs apart.And then the rider's face tilted upward toward her window.





	dark nights

Annabeth tucked her hair behind her ear and told herself she was going to the window for a breath of fresh air, a break from studying, not because she heard the familiar rattle of her neighbor's garage door opening.

The sky was a remarkable shade of blue. Spring had kissed the trees and tiny, white blossoms were starting to sprout on the dogwood outside her window. Annabeth settled against the frame and peered down into her friend Jason's yard. As she'd expected, a shiny black motorcycle had been rolled out of the garage and into the driveway, its rider already seated on the back.

Annabeth unconsciously brought a strand of hair to her mouth.

The motorcyclist turned on the bike.

Annabeth felt the rumble of it in her veins. For a brief moment, she imagined herself on the back of it, her face pressed against the leather jacket stitched with the words “Girl Power” in vibrant red. She imagined the smoky, vanilla scent of the rider's perfume mixed with the gasoline smell of the bike. The warmth of Jason's sister's jean-clad ass against her hips as the motorcycle's leather seat held her legs apart.

And then the rider's face tilted upward toward her window.

Annabeth snapped her eyes to her book. She waited until the engine revved again, but only looked up when she heard the bike roll safely away. Slowly, she sighed through her nose. Then pulled the hair from her mouth and went back to her history homework.

**

The room was dark when Annabeth opened her eyes.

She hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep and took several moments to realize what had woken her. For a sickeningly, pathetic second she thought it had been the rumble of the motorcycle returning. But then, as her eyes adjusted to the dark and drank in the moonlight from the window Annabeth realized it was the rattling static the walky-talky on her desk.

She peeled her face from the page of her history book and wiped her mouth before reaching for it. She pressed the 'receive' button. “Jason?”

“Hey,” came Jason's cool, deep voice from the other line. “Are you home? Your room's dark.”

“Fell asleep,” Annabeth said.

“It's only nine,” Jason argued.

Again, Annabeth said, “Fell asleep.” Then, “Did you just get back from practice?”

“Yeah. Coach Hedge has been killing us lately.”

“Brutal.” Annabeth reached over and turned on her desk lamp. The room illuminated in its yellow light. She only had a couple more paragraphs to write for her homework, luckily. Fuck AP classes.

“Sorry to wake you up,” Jason said.

“It's fine,” Annabeth answered. “I'm glad you did.”

“I wanted to know if you were still coming tomorrow night.”

Annabeth blinked at her wall. “Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I wanted the group to come chill at my house. Watch a movie or something.”

“Oh, right,” Annabeth remembered. “Yeah, I'll be there.”

“Cool,” Jason said and she could hear his smile through the walky-talky. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” Annabeth agreed. And then the static died.

**

Jason's house smelled like clean laundry and entitlement. It was strange to Annabeth who was used to the smell of apple juice and paternal abandonment. Still, it was strange that such a nice house with its polished floors and modern furniture had been the the place where Jason and his sister had grown up. It was the kind of home where children grew still, where private school kids snorted cocaine on granite counter tops.

And yet Jason, captain of the lacrosse team and Annabeth's Bro Next Door, outright refused Leo's suggestion of breaking into his mom's liquor cabinet (with a strange amount of fear in his voice) and had insisted on a movie that wasn't rated R.

Annabeth had left him and the rest of her friends bickering in the living room to make her way to the dark kitchen for a soda. She felt foreign and small in its vastness and it took several seconds to realize once she'd gotten to the stainless steel refrigerator door – strangely stripped of the colorful magnets and drawings on the front of her own fridge – that she was not alone.

The dark figure beside her in the glow of the fridge made her swear fiercely.

An amused laugh replied.

“You okay there, blondie?” Jason's sister, Thalia Grace, asked. She didn't look like she'd scared her on purpose. Her stance was relaxed, leaning back against the sink. In the black of her jeans and the black of her tank top in the darkness of the kitchen, Annabeth simply hadn't known she was there.

But she did now.

Thalia looked immortal in the glow of the fridge, her long fingers wrapped around a bottle of water. Without her leather jacket, without her helmet, she looked scandalously nude. Her cheekbones were sharp, but her face soft, kissed by freckles that rolled across her nose like marbles. Her hair was dark, spiky, and contrasted fiercely with her blue eyes. On Jason, those eyes were like pools of spring water, gentle and light. On Thalia they were mirthful, dangerous.

Annabeth couldn't breathe.

Thalia's eyebrows scrunched.

Abruptly, Annabeth realized she hadn't answered. “I'm fine,” she croaked, then turned back to the fridge to hide her face. She was suddenly self-conscious of her choice in clothing. She hadn't expected Thalia to be here; her hair was in a half-assed bun, her jeans torn and covered in grass stains. She was only wearing concealer. Fuck. “I just didn't know anyone was in here.”

“Yeah, I got that much,” Thalia snorted, taking another sip of her water.

Annabeth pretended that she didn't know which soda to choose. After several moments of staring emptily into the light, she let her fingers grasp a light-orange can and she shut the fridge door. The kitchen ghosted back into darkness.

The air felt thick.

Annabeth asked, careful, “Why were you in here without the light on?”

In the gray of the window, Annabeth saw the faint glint of Thalia's smile. “What's it to you?”

Annabeth let her eyes drop to her soda, feeling annoyed and stupid. She hated that feeling.

“I see you sometimes,” Thalia said, suddenly. Annabeth tensed. “In the window. You watch me a lot, huh?”

Annabeth didn't answer. Her face was hot. She felt her temper rising, stoked by shame, by embarrassment. With venom in her voice, she asked, “What's it to you?”

Thalia barked a laugh, a sound that startled both of them.

“Well,” Thalia said after a moment, placing her emptied bottle beside the sink. She adjusted herself against the counter, turning, and Annabeth helplessly glanced at her cleavage before raking her eyes back up to her face. “I figured if it was about the bike, I could take you for a ride sometime. Jason says you want to see the world someday.” Something passed over her face that Annabeth couldn't quite read in the faint light of the window. “I get that. So if you want to go out on it some day, just let me know when. Maybe I'll teach you how to ride.”

The reality of what she'd said took her by surprise. “Thanks,” she said, quiet. “That... Thanks.”

Thalia didn't say anything, just gave a slow nod. Then she leaned forward and took a step. “But,” she said, “I also figured if it wasn't the bike...”

Thalia trailed off and suddenly she stood in front of her, an approaching storm. Annabeth could smell her perfume. She felt drunk on it.

She stilled as Thalia's hands reached up and took the cream soda from her fingers. The slow, deliberate _click_ of the can opening sent a shudder through her, deeper than any motorcycle engine.

Thalia held her eyes.

She brought the soda to her mouth.

Annabeth's skin was hot.

Thalia sipped her drink.

Smirked.

“If it wasn't the bike,” Thalia said again, delicately placing the open can back into Annabeth's hand. Her fingers grazed Annabeth's, setting off every nerve. “I could still teach you how to ride.”

Grinning, she held her eyes for a long moment. Then she took a step backward, although 'step' wasn't quite the right word. 'Sauntered' was better. She sauntered backward, all teeth.

“I'll see you tomorrow night,” she said, “for lessons?”

The cream soda was burning Annabeth's hand.

She was wet in her jeans.

She breathed, “Yeah.”

Then Thalia grinned.

And was gone.

Annabeth tucked her hair behind her ear and gave a shuddering breath.

She couldn't help the smile.

 


End file.
